Forbidden
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: "...by gaining everything she's ever wanted for a short period of time, she's lost everything that she needs." They're transported into a parallel world where, for them, everything's different-and it's torture for Amelie and Sam. /Samelie AU, warning inside.


This is an AU fic, which involves incest!Samelie. I won't go into details but they end up being brother and sister, so if this isn't your cup of tea, don't read.

I don't own anything.

* * *

"You shouldn't be here."

Amelie's voice is soft as she utters the words which rip her insides apart, her eyes locked in on her intruder's.

"I know," is Sam's response, his feet walking him closer to the woman clad in a cream coloured silk robe. "But I can't stay away from you any longer. It's killing me to walk around, knowing that I can't reach you when that's all my heart wants…so I had to come. If you want me to, I'll go—"

"No," she says instantly, her hand wrapping around Sam's wrist to ensure he remains in position. "Now you're here, stay—please. I…I need you."

It's as though a shield in her mind has fallen and her ability to distance herself from Sam has been eradicated by his touch. Instinctively, she moves closer, burying her head in his chest in order to breathe in the scent which is unique to the man she loves. It's her idea of heaven and hell at the same time, and that's partially why she loves it so much; it's forbidden to her, which is what makes her crave it all the more.

"It's wrong," Amelie whispers into Sam's chest as his arms wrap around her to pull her closer to his body. "I shouldn't need you, should be strong enough to do without you, but I'm not. Part of me wants to accept this without an issue, but I'm the Founder; this town expects me to control it with the help of no-one and yet I find myself needing you more than ever before. It scares me, Samuel, but it endears me, also."

Sam's lips press against the top of Amelie's hair, and his arms tighten around her back. "It's not wrong, my sweet, beautiful Amelie. It's right. I will be here whether you want me or not—forever and always. I know you'll always want me…but even if it's the wrong time for the town, you won't be rid of me, not ever."

It's not wrong as she lifts her head for their lips to meet, sending waves of something indescribable through her…but soon, it will be.

_~x~_

Myrnin's mind whirls and swirls with complex algorithms and formulae which he needs to write down on some paper. He can't arrange his thoughts into the correct way in order to do this, and he growls, frustrated with his inability to structure his ideas into physical form. It's something he's always struggled with, and he knows that, unless he has a mental overhaul, he always will.

"Why?" he growls, digging his hands into his scalp and ripping through to try and alleviate the growing aggravation in his mind. "Why can I not save my own people?"

For one short, terrifying second, he believes there's a chance all of this may be God's doing, and that the death of his race is ridding the world of a wrong creation of His. Then, Myrnin laughs, a guttural sound from deep within his throat: God isn't something he believes in…but ridding the world of a wrong…that could be something.

All of a sudden, Myrnin has the inspiration to give his ideas a physical manifestation, scrawling half-words and equations in random shapes to give him a (for him) relatively neat plan of action. He needs to rid the world of a wrong thing: the Bishop disease…and so that's what he'll do. He'll get rid of the thing causing the pain to everyone—and then nobody will need worry again.

(Little does he know what the result of his endeavours will actually be.)

…

Now he knows what he's doing, it only takes Myrnin from sunset until sunrise to complete an entire machine. The result is confusing; it's a compilation of twisted metal and random pieces of material he's managed to locate within the midden he calls his home…but, as always with Myrnin's inventions, it will work. It doesn't look impressive, and if Amelie saw it Myrnin knows that she'd insult it down to the very last button, but it'll do something—even if the result isn't entirely what he's predicting. He often has this issue, but Myrnin thinks that whatever the consequence of ridding the world of the Bishop disease is, he (and Amelie) will accept it gladly.

"Here's to science solving nature's problems," Myrnin says with a grin, flexing his fingers as he prepares the machine. There's a feeling of pure elation in the air because he's done it, he's ended the curse upon his entire race; they're all safe, thanks to him.

As the machine shudders to life, Myrnin begins to press hastily made buttons (some ripped from other, less important machines) in illogical movements, pressing some multiple times in order to cause steam to emit from pipes and chimneys, as well as a mysterious smoke filling the room. It's this that makes Myrnin know that it's working…but as he turns and sweeps, he feels himself succumbing to a tiredness within his bones which appeared when he started the machine. It's alien to him, something he's never experienced before, which surprises him.

Within minutes, he's on the floor, his attempt to fight it making him fall faster. All around Morganville, people are falling, humans and vampires alike; the last two to fall are Sam and Amelie, still locked within their embrace.

When they wake up, nothing's the same.

_~x~_

Amelie opens her eyes and immediately feels disorientated; whereas before she was with Sam in her small garden, now she's in a narrow bed in a room she's never been in before…and she's human.

The shock of the beating of her heart forces her upright, her hand over her chest, and Amelie realises that her senses are all dulled now as well. Only minutes ago (or so she thinks) she was a vampire, in a garden with her lover—Sam. Where is he? His location is more pressing than the shock that she's _human_, something she hasn't been in over one thousand years; he's everything to her, after all.

As she jumps out of bed, Amelie looks down at her body and winces. She's clad in tartan pyjamas, clothes she'd never wear normally, and as she looks through the wardrobe on the side of the room, she realises this person's tastes don't quite match up with hers. There are various outfits which are similar to what the Morrell girl likes to wear, and Amelie winces as she pulls various items onto her body.

A half open bag on the side grabs Amelie's attention and she picks up the purse, intrigued as to who she is. She's more than slightly worried about how and why she's here—she'll need to find Myrnin as soon as possible to clarify what's gone on—and when she opens the wallet section of the purse, she gasps.

Her name isn't just Amelie; it's Amelie Glass.

The lack of ring on her left hand confuses Amelie, but she presumes that this 'new' her doesn't want one. Why she's here is unclear still, but she's more than ninety percent certain that Myrnin has had a large role to play in its occurrence. This makes her want to track Myrnin down even more, after she's found Sam of course, so she almost sprints to the door of this room in this strange place, and considers where Sam could be.

She doest have to consider for long. Within half a minute, the door opposite hers opens, and a mop of shocking red hair pokes out: Sam. He looks exactly the same as he's always done, which soothes Amelie's concerns slightly, because if Sam's the same, she can't be too different…can she? (Besides for the fact that she's human, obviously.)

"Sam," she whispers barely audibly, and before she realises what she's doing, her feet are beating down the path towards him. "What…why are we here? Why am I human?" she cries into his shoulder, feeling the comforting presence of his arms snaking around her back as she does so.

Then she freezes.

"You're human, too." She's merely stating this fact, nothing in her voice other than shock, and Amelie feels Sam nod.

"Yes, I woke up in here—which looks remarkably like my great aunt Nora's home—and had a heartbeat. Something's going on, Amelie…and I don't like it." Sam's being authoritative for once, his expression dark and grim, but this isn't Amelie's focus for the time being.

She's human and all the endorphins and feelings she's spent one thousand years dulling so they're barely roused, are in full force once more. She's wholly focused on Sam, and as she looks into his face, her heartbeat increases, her breathing quickens…and the entire world seems to revolve around Sam. That's why it isn't a surprise that their lips meet in a kiss orchestrated entirely by Amelie; it feels like the natural completion of her feelings, a worthy end to the desires she wishes she'd had a chance to experience in her first time as a human. He kisses her back, harder, and for a few moments they cling to one another, until they find themselves desperate for air.

"It's strange, kissing you as a human," Sam murmurs as he places his forehead against Amelie's.

"I'm not just Amelie here," Amelie blurs out, and Sam's eyebrows lift in confusion and shock at her words. "My name…my name is…it's Amelie Glass."

She can feel Sam pulling back to look at her, then down at firstly his, then her left hand, noting the obvious absence of any ring. "I don't understand—you'd want a ring, I know you would," he says quietly. In this moment, he takes a step back from Amelie, letting go of her, and she immediately feels pain that he's left her—before she covers it up, of course. She may be human here, but Amelie's still strong, still invincible without a man…perhaps.

"Something seems strange," is Amelie's addition to the conversation. She feels stupid as a human, because she can't think as fast as she used to be able to; it's disorientating, returning to this, and she doesn't like it. "I think I understand it, Sam. If we're married…then why are we sleeping in different rooms?"

Amelie knows that this is the biggest thorn in her greatest dream being true: herself and Sam, together until old age rips them apart, married—because why would they have separate rooms? Then there are the other issues: the clothes, the house (which seems dingy and rather unpleasant to Amelie's delicate tastes) and the fact that she doesn't recognise herself. She's different to how she's ever been before, because whilst she _feels_ like the Founder of the town, like how she did when she and Sam were in her small garden, she _isn't_, not here.

Before she can say another word, there's a sound at the end of the hallway, and both Sam and Amelie turn to face that direction, reaching out to take the other's hand in the face of a possible adversary. They're in their most vulnerable state—human—and they know that if this is a vampire coming to call, they've got no way to defend themselves.

In the split second prior to the door opening, Amelie realises that it _can't_ be a vampire; they're human, in a human-owned house (she presumes, at least) and that means that vampires can't get them. No, whoever this is…the Amelie and Sam who live in this world evidently know them.

The door opens, and Sam's expression brightens immediately. "Mother!" he exclaims, over-enthusiastically because he hasn't seen her in fifty five years, in his world. Here, he supposes immediately after sounding so enthusiastic, he probably saw her an hour or two ago at most.

"I see you both managed to get up," the woman replies, and Amelie senses some sort of anger behind her tone. "You two really need to get used to being in the real world—wait...I thought that your Father and I had discussed…the _relationship_ between a brother and a sister." As she speaks, Sam's mother drops the shopping in her hands onto the ground, and her face pales; her eyes are locked on the clasped hands of Sam and Amelie, and as she steps forwards, there's fear and disgust in her expression.

Amelie doesn't understand; they're not related, so why has Sam's parents been lecturing them about how a brother and sister ought to act? Even in this world they can't…

"What do you _mean_, Mother?" Sam snaps immediately, his gaze firmly upon the woman before him. As he speaks, he tightens his grip on Amelie's hand, pulling her closer to him, as though closeness will cause his mother's words to be repudiated.

The disgusted look on Sam's mother's face intensifies as she looks first into Sam's face, and then Amelie's. "I mean that you have been brother and sister since the day you were born, and that..that we…it isn't natural; _how_, in what world, is it right for you to love your sister…like…like you should love someone else? How is it _right_ to…to kiss each other and to do things that…that are not only wrong morally, but _legally_, too?" she hisses, and for the first time, Amelie feels scared.

Amelie doesn't doubt Sam's mother—apparently _her_ mother—for one minute; why would she make up the fact that Sam and herself are related? She wouldn't, it makes no sense…but…it's the worst news she could ever hear; to be related to the man she loves is one thing, to be _siblings_ with him is even worse, because as Sam's mother—_her_ mother—said…it's illegal.

"No," Sam whispers, refusing to accept it as the truth, "no, I don't believe you; it _can't_ be true, it just can't!"

Amelie turns to face Sam and lifts a hand halfway to his face before she stops herself, slowly. Here, this is wrong; it's wrong to feel as she does about Sam Glass, because here, they're brother and sister.

"Sam," she mutters quietly, blocking out the woman standing in front of them both. "She's right—why else would I have this name? Why else would we be here together, and yet not together at the same time?"

The woman—Amelie vaguely remembers Sam saying, in the other world, that her name is Shirley—snorts, disgust evident in every movement and sound she makes. "You're not natural, the pair of you. If I see either of you touching the other again…I'll…oh God, why did I have to have this?" she whispers to herself, beginning to threaten them both before just giving up. "Why did I have to have two children who…who…" she trails off, tears springing into her eyes, but neither Amelie nor Sam attempt to comfort her.

They're both in shock about the fact that here, their love is banned for an entirely different reason to at home: they're related.

Shirley disappears around the corner with her bags, murmuring to herself in horror as she does so, and Amelie turns back to look at Sam. She can't let go of his hand, can't bring herself to break the connection between them, even as the horror rises within her; they're related…and she loves him more than she loves anyone else.

To be in his arms is a heaven that's indescribable, as is to feel his lips against hers, but here, in this universe wherever it is, it's forbidden; everything she feels is unnatural here. All she wants is to have him whisper how much he loves her in her ear, to slowly go from being two people in love to two people who are married—and if they remain here, that can't happen. They're brother and sister, and for this biological reason, they can't be together; they don't belong in this place, shouldn't have the constraints placed upon them, but they have done and it's the most painful thing that Amelie has ever experienced.

"Hush, it's going to be fine," Sam says, trying to calm Amelie down. It's only now that she realises that she's crying. "Amelie, please don't cry; it destroys me on the inside to see you hurting."

For a moment, Amelie's confused as to why he's not pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to the top of her head, telling her that he'll make everything better if he can—and then she remembers. She's slow here, unable to react immediately, and it sickens her to think that everything she wants, everything that sets her and Sam out as being in love, is disgusting here—incest.

"I…why did this have to happen to us?" She shakes her head and removes her hand from Sam's, feeling a part of herself disappear at the same time. "You agree that we're not from here, that we're from a place where neither of us are human…and we're not related? I am not merely going…crazy, like Myrnin, am I?" she has to confirm this, has to ensure that she isn't just dreaming of the entire life she leads…or that she's here alone.

But, thankfully, Sam's agreeing with her, nodding his head though his sapphire eyes are unreadable to Amelie, which is strange. She's always been able to tell his thoughts, always been able to know what he's going to say and how he's going to react. Here, now, when she wants to know this the most, his mind is lost to her. Perhaps this is for the best, though, given what they are here.

"We're not from here," Sam agrees, taking a step backwards from Amelie to lean against the wall. "We're meant to be together, Amelie; this definitely isn't our world, a place where we're forced apart because of something that makes sure we _have_ to be apart."

Amelie's glad to know that it isn't just her.

"In that case, we need to go find the one person who can help solve this—probably because he's the one who created the situation in the first place," Amelie replies, sighing deeply. Everything she's ever loved, everything she's ever hoped for, it's all disappeared in a matter of words—"_you're siblings_"—and it hurts; there's a hole in her heart where love ought to be…and Amelie's not sure if she can get it back, at least not yet.

"We need to go find Myrnin."

_~x~_

Once the decision's made to go visit Myrnin, Amelie whirls into action. Somehow, she manages to force back every feeling within her, both the love and the disgust, and focuses on the issue at hand: getting Myrnin to admit that he's done something wrong. He won't admit it without a fight, especially if he doesn't even know what he's done here; Amelie's not confident that he will have retained memories of the other world, the real world where they're from, particularly if he's native to this world—but they have to try. Neither she nor Sam has any skills in science or alchemy whatsoever, and if Myrnin can't help them, nobody can; they'll be trapped in this world forever, a world of growing old—but not together. How can they be together in a world which shuns this happening because they're related, and not just related, but brother and sister?

"Are you ready to go?" Sam's voice at the door to her room startles Amelie, and she turns to look at him, grabbing her bag as she does so.

"Yes," she replies, stalking out of the room and heading down the corridor without waiting for Sam. Or, at least, she tries to; here, she doesn't have an advantage of age over Sam; he's taller than her, and catches her up before she's even reached the front door.

"Hey, don't be like this," Sam says to her as he unlocks the door, using a key that Amelie would never have spotted. "It isn't my fault that we're here…and, to be honest, it's quite nice to get the chance to spend time with you." His tone both placates and infuriates Amelie at the same time—and the fury wins out over the feeling of being wanted that his words provokes within her.

"You _want_ this?" she whispers, each word like a dagger. "You want to be related, to be together when it's _wrong_ for us to want what we want? This is your idea of a heaven, the fact that I'm not leaving your side? When, in actual fact, everything that I…we want together is illegal; every touch is wrong, Sam, because every time we're close to one another…I want you. And here, that isn't right…so if you want this, I really, _truly_ do not know you any longer." She spits the words out, barely managing to stop the tears from spilling out from her eyes; she's always been able to retrain herself from crying, so she doesn't understand why she can't right now.

Sam's hand shoots out to touch her shoulder, and it hovers above Amelie's skin for a moment before he slowly, deliberately takes it away. "No, I don't want this—I don't want us to be together like _this_," he replies, his voice as dull and depressed as Amelie thinks she's ever heard it. "I just appreciate the chance to spend time with the woman I love, be it in the wrong universe or whatever. It's wrong to want you here, I get that, but I…it's hard to explain; it's a choice between having you near me and having you as a lover…and I honestly can't decide which one I'd rather have." He shakes his head. "I shouldn't have said that. Now, let's go find Myrnin."

Before Amelie can reply, Sam's stepping out of the door and into the town of Morganville—or at least the town Amelie _hopes_ is Morganville, she hasn't thought to check this out yet—and…the sun. He's out in the sun and he isn't burning; Sam, one of the youngest vampires in the world, isn't burning—so she won't either.

As Amelie steps out into the outside world, her fears and anger suddenly forgotten with the appearance of the sun, she laughs; it's been so long since she could look up at the sun and not feel the dull burn its rays had upon her skin, that she's forgotten what it looks like. Photos or darkened glass can't provide the same experience as seeing it firsthand, and Amelie laughs as she looks up into the sun, not even bothering to squint her eyes shut; she wants every second of this experience burnt onto her mind forever, be that giving her temporary eye problems or not.

"Whereabouts in town are we?" Amelie asks Sam as they reach the end of the garden path, having been in silence for almost fifteen seconds. It's strange not to be either talking or touching one another—when together, usually there's at least one of these occurring at any one time—but Amelie fights down the urges to take Sam's hand. Out here, in the open world of Morganville, it's too dangerous.

"If we take a few right hand turns, avoiding the cul-de-sacs, we should get straight to Myrnin's," Sam replies, his voice distant, his head facing the opposite direction to where Amelie stands. "Moving at an average speed, I'm guessing it'll take maybe five minutes to walk—but we should go as fast as we can. This…this isn't the best neighbourhood."

Amelie's confused as to his words—as far as she was aware, this part of town's acceptable; it's by the tower blocks that humans need to be wary—but then she ignores the doubt that rises within her; he knows this area much better than she does, after all, as the only time she's ever here is to visit Myrnin. She doesn't speak in regards to his instructions, though, merely nods and begins to walk down the road in the direction Sam pointed in, taking care to keep as wide a gap between their bodies as possible.

She doesn't think that she could resist touching him if he was within easy touching distance.

As they walk down towards Myrnin's home, they encounter a few residents who Sam seems to recognise; when the person nears them, he goes, "oh, that's so-and-so," relaying every detail that he can remember about them before they approach earshot. There's something strange about them all, though, Amelie thinks; firstly, they all look surprised to see the two of them together…and secondly, they look mildly disgusted.

"Are we almost there?" Amelie can't resist asking as they round the fourth corner. She hates to admit it, but she's getting tired; she hasn't been human in so long that she's forgotten just how slowly they move. For the first time, she feels slightly sorry for Claire, all the times she's forced the girl to run as fast as she can; it's painful to even _walk_ this fast, let alone run for an extended period of time.

She can't resist looking at Sam, either. His head turns towards her as she speaks but immediately turns away again, his eyes focusing on their path ahead. "We're just heading down this street and then we should be almost there, unless the street designs are different in this world." He doesn't sound happy, and Amelie almost asks him why—almost—until she remembers her outburst and his response.

He's happy that they're here together, brother and sister, because it means that they can be close; they have an excuse to be together, to talk and laugh and smile—as at home, they can't be. She shuns him, pushes him away because she wants to protect him from the demonic vampires who desire nothing more than to see her destroyed. Here, though, there doesn't seem to be this sort of danger; she's safe with him here, safe to be seen with him and spend time with him…just not in the way that they want.

They have the choice: stay here and be close, but be forbidden from being with one another, or return home and risk them losing any contact with the other. And, like Sam, Amelie doesn't know which one she'd rather have.

Whilst lost in thought, they seem to have travelled a fair distance, and Amelie's shocked to look up and see the familiar Day House and the alleyway next to it which leads to the trapdoor spider's lair. She's never entered the laboratory this way; she's always portaled her way in, deciding that using the route designed for his capture of Unprotected humans isn't how she wants to greet her friend.

Unprotected…Amelie looks down at her wrist hastily to discover what she feared; they have no Protection bracelets, have nothing to stop Myrnin taking them…nothing but their scent. If he's transported himself here with them, they _should_, in theory, be safe; if not, then their lives may very well end at this point.

"We're going to be taking this into God's hands," Amelie says to Sam, her hand reaching out to stop him moving forwards into the dark alleyway. The contact between her hand and his chest sends waves of something through the pair of them, something that ought not to be there, and Amelie immediately pulls her hand away. Here, they shouldn't do this. In this world, it's wrong; it's _incest_.

"Why?" Sam asks, puzzled, and Amelie almost screams in frustration.

"Myrnin is a danger to humans who do not have Protection," Amelie reminds him, her tone clipped. "We do not seem to have bracelets, so if Myrnin has not been moved to this world with us, then we have nothing to stop him placing us with the rest of the livestock which he captures. I very much hope that he has come here with us, otherwise our aims to return home may very well be over before they have begun."

As she steps forwards into the shadows, hesitant for the first time, she hears Sam's disgusted repetition of livestock, and Amelie regrets not making a better choice of words. She doesn't have the patience to discuss the correct way with regards to referring to the breed of being which she currently is.

Very slowly, she advances down the alleyway, wondering whether or not Myrnin will even recognise anyone being there. Behind her, Sam is following hastily, his hand on her back, and Amelie almost shrugs it off before she remembers that it's dark down here; nobody will see them together. Only their consciences which could hold them back, and since neither of them feel as though they belong here, there's no disgust in being together; to hold the other makes them feel complete, makes them feel as though they've a chance to be happy rather than merely skating through life—and that isn't something that an alternative world can take from them.

Only when they near the entrance to the laboratory does Amelie feel the pull Myrnin exerts—and it scares her. She's never felt it before, not really; he's tested it on her but since she's always been stronger than him, she's only had a consciousness that he's attempted to take her. Here, though, as a weak human, she's almost drawn towards him, towards the danger that he exudes through every pore—and she would succumb, if she didn't have Sam.

His presence at her back reminds her that they're here for a reason, and that they don't belong here; they cannot die in a world which isn't their home, which has the result that they must persuade Myrnin to change things back to how they were before. She doesn't understand why he's made Sam her brother—she doesn't recall doing anything to her longest friend to make him retaliate in such a manner—but he needs to fix it, fast. Amelie's certain that she won't make it another few days in this world, not without doing things which are more illegal than anything she's ever done before…well, perhaps save for murder.

"Careful," she whispers, though there's no need; Sam knows what's happening. "He's strong, stronger than I thought he is, and…and I don't want you to succumb to his power." Amelie doesn't mention that she almost fell, though, and neither does Sam; she wants to continue being strong, and he won't take that from her.

They reach the shack without incident, though Amelie knows that Myrnin will be dangerous when they enter, so just before they head down the stairs, she reaches up to the ceiling. She's too short to reach the box hidden behind one of the planks of wood holding the roof up so she has to mime to Sam to remove it for her. He hands her it and Amelie opens it quietly, secretly thankful that it's still here; she placed it here when the shack was first built, though theoretically, it shouldn't be here since she's human, and it's a secret weapon against Myrnin. He's never liked the rain…and inside the box is a small bag of water from a spring within Wales; he fell down a hill into this spring as a young man and almost drowned, and the taste of the water has stayed with him forever. Touching this water will reduce him to a quaking mess, Amelie knows—it's her weapon that she's kept hidden for all these years, a final defence against her longest friend, something she's always hoped never to need use.

Slowly, Amelie descends down the stairs into the laboratory, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness within. She wonders where Myrnin is, wonders whether or not he'll be ready to pounce when her feet touch the floor, and she isn't disappointed; as soon as she's on the same level as him, he approaches.

His fangs are extended, ready for the kill, and Amelie brandishes the bottle of water, which she immediately realises looks more than slightly foolish. Water wouldn't stop him, not even holy water, and so she immediately makes it clear what it is.

"This water is from the spring you fell into," she tells him loudly, her voice sharp and clear. "If you try and hurt me, Myrnin, you will regret it most, _most_ dearly." Her tone turns sour and bitter, her threat clear to the man she's threatening as well as the man behind her.

Myrnin's scared, she can tell, and slowly, Amelie lowers the hand with the water in it. "Myrnin, are you going to say that you do not recognise me or my scent?" she continues, taking a step towards him. "You tried to take me as though I am an ordinary _human_, something you know I am _not_…why?" her stress on the word human will irritate Sam, she's well aware of this, but she has different mannerisms for Myrnin than Sam, and Myrnin is her priority at the current moment in time.

There's a flicker of recognition at Amelie's words in Myrnin's eyes before it's gone—or, rather, his face is turned away from her, so she can't see into his eyes.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Myrnin replies, but Amelie knows he's lying; he's been her friend for far too long for her to not recognise the slight changes in his intonation when he's telling a lie.

"You do," Amelie snaps instantly, her eyes boring into the back of Myrnin's head as though this could do anything to make him accept who she is quicker, "you know who I am, just as you know who Sam is, and you _know_ that we're not supposed to be here in this place where we're…where we're related."

_This_ has Myrnin's attention, his eyes focusing on Amelie faster than she realised he could move; evidently, she's lost awareness as to how fast her kind move, because it's disorientating just how quickly Myrnin's facing her once more. Perhaps she ought to show more sympathy for the humans in her world—and she _will_, particularly Claire, if she ever gets the chance to return to the world in which she belongs.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Myrnin repeats, but his heart isn't in the lie; Amelie can see through every single word he says, a bitter smile upon her lips. Myrnin sighs. "You haven't given me long to even consider how I can reverse this, have you?" he mutters, leaning against the table closest to the stairs.

Sam makes his way down to the floor to join Amelie, wrapping his arm around her; he can't help himself. "What did you expect us to do?" he asks Myrnin, but the vampire doesn't seem to notice him. His eyes are locked on Amelie, his friend, and Sam's reminded that to Myrnin, he's barely more than foodstuff; he's Amelie's lover, but that doesn't make him important to Myrnin, Amelie's oldest friend.

"We've been here for perhaps an hour or two, Myrnin; that is more than enough time for you to have at least begun reversing whatever action you did which brought this world about," Amelie says, advancing the point Sam made. "Are you going to _tell_ us what you did in order to turn us into _siblings_, Myrnin, or does that not matter to you? Does it not matter to you that everything I feel for this man is wrong here—do you really not care that much?" she begins to overreact, partially accidentally and partially because she knows that Myrnin hates overemotional women and he always does everything he can to avoid the cascade of tears going on longer than it has to.

It works. As soon as the tears begin to fall down Amelie's cheeks, hotter than they normally are against her skin, Myrnin sighs and stands upright once more, taking a step towards the pair.

"I was…I came up with a solution to the Bishop Disease," he says finally, his tone darker than Amelie recalls hearing it for the longest of times. "It's complicated to explain and I don't have the notes that I wrote in…in this world…but I can remember everything I did, everything I created. It was supposed to remove the one thing that doesn't belong in the world, the disease, but I suppose that it worked in a slightly different way for the pair of you; you both suffered the disease, and I theorise that one of you was muttering about how wrong it is that you were together—don't give me that look, Amelie, I can read you better than you can read yourself—and therefore the machine did not differentiate…so it corrected what it thought was wrong. All around Morganville, anyone who was muttering about something being wrong has probably found that thing fixed—the machine worked, in its main purpose, if you were wondering: the Bishop disease is no more." He sounds almost proud of himself until Amelie's expression turns to one of absolute fury.

She has to be held back by Sam to stop her either throwing the water all over Myrnin's body or from attacking him with whatever strength her human body possesses, but he can't stop her screaming and yelling at Myrnin in French, cursing him and calling him every word that she can think of. Then she moves into Welsh, well aware that the majority of her rant was ignored by Myrnin given he can't understand French, and she watches him flinch as she shoots a barrage of insults in his native tongue, focusing upon the idiocy of him making such a momentous leap forwards without informing her.

"I didn't want to give you false hope!" Myrnin, finally, shouts, his eyes brimming with tears. They're brighter than Amelie can ever recall seeing them—or at least for the past decades, what with the disease slowly eating away at his personality and mind—and it's mainly because of his eyes that she silences herself. "So many times I have brought you to this place in order to tell you that I have had an idea which _may_ work and you have left feeling heartened and of the opinion that it will work…and then it doesn't. I see your face when I have to tell you that, see the disappointment that you attempt to mask in your eyes, and I know that you think I'm a failure…for once, I wanted to surprise you with something _happy_—which I have succeeded with, though perhaps not how I expected." He finishes dramatically, collapsing into one of the chairs nearest the stairs, burying his head in his hands.

Amelie doesn't speak for many a moment; instead, she buries her head in Sam's chest and breathes in his scent, thankful for his presence. He's keeping her together, giving her a little boost of energy that she wouldn't otherwise have, and she knows that if she lifted her head for their lips to meet, he would resist as little as she would. They're not from this world; they're merely here temporarily, and they won't stop their relationship for the formalities of living here.

Yet, still, Amelie thinks it's wrong how her mind immediately flits to Sam every second that it isn't preoccupied by something else. What she wants to do is unladylike but it's also wrong morally here, because whilst she knows that they're not really related, they are here—they're brother and sister, and to share something so special whilst siblings could destroy her forever.

"I understand," Amelie whispers finally, realising the growing silence in the laboratory. Sam has no idea what to say to Myrnin so he contents himself with holding Amelie, who's thankful for his touch, so Amelie returns her focus to Myrnin. "You tried to give me a present…and whilst it backfired, I...I thank you, Myrnin. But, please, is there any way to fix it? Are us three the only people who are aware that this isn't the real world and that their lives here will return to how they were before, or are there others with consciousness?"

Amelie takes steps into the laboratory, holding onto Sam only by the hand now, and she looks at the various machines in the room. Surely one of them can hold the answer to their problem?

Myrnin shrugs slightly, lifting his head to look at Amelie, his feverishly bright eyes no longer in this state; they're dull and oppressed, as though the light's being bound within him. "I can recreate the machine and merely ensure that it's set to work in the opposite direction…but I must remind you that the Bishop Disease will return, and perhaps stronger than before. Doing things to remove it and then replace it can edit the intensity of viruses, and there is a chance that the…the Disease, when returned, will not be able to be vanquished in this same way."

Amelie turns to look at Sam, her free hand reaching up to press itself against his cheek. His skin's flushed, warmer than she can ever remember it being, and she wants to close her eyes and press herself into his body so that there are no gaps between them, but she checks herself. This is neither the time nor the place…if she can't wait until she returns home to the reality where she can't be with him then perhaps later, but not now when she's trying to sort out how to _get_ back there.

"Do whatever it takes to get us back home," she tells Myrnin slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Please, Myrnin, this is a request that I _need_…I cannot survive as either a human or as…as the sister of the man I love," she continues, feeling the tears return to her eyes. Before any can be shed, however, Sam's finger hovers underneath her left eye in order to capture the droplet of liquid before it can run down her cheeks.

She's thankful; she's never liked the tracks tears leave, a physical reminder of her sadness.

Myrnin nods slowly, already moving swiftly around the laboratory as though they've left his presence. "I cannot promise that it will be a speedy return," he comments, and Amelie sighs internally; that would be expecting too much, would it not? "Return to your home and do not do anything which could remarkably alter the course of events in our world, is that clear?"

Amelie blushes, hoping that any thoughts she's had haven't been clear on her face, but a more pressing issue suddenly hits her. "Myrnin, before we go…if I am human and was born here…_who_ founded Morganville? Who is running my town?"

She has the feeling that she won't like the answer, and that's confirmed when Myrnin shifts slightly before replying. "In this world, my dear, it is Oliver."

"No!" she gasps, a mixture of fury and disbelief—as has been the case throughout this relatively short meeting with her friend—filling her tone. "I can't believe it…no! How?"

But rather than answer her question, Myrnin merely shakes his head. "I do not know, and even if I wanted to know, I would not waste my time finding out the reason when we will be soon back in the world where _you_ rule, not when you could spend precious time with your beau. Now, if you would excuse me, I must get on with my work, if you want to return to our world within the short term."

He's basically excusing them, and Amelie feels affronted for a moment until she remembers that here, she's not the powerful queen that she is at home; here, even Myrnin, the court jester who prefers tomfoolery over trickery, amusement over power, is stronger than she is. He has everything that she wants, and for a moment, she considers asking him to turn her, just so that she's a vampire here, too—until she remembers the machine. It turned her human because she wanted a chance to be the same as Sam, she supposes, and if it's a reversal process and she's a vampire here, she'll return to _her_ world as a human—something which cannot end well.

"Let's go," she whispers to Sam, allowing him to draw her into his body as close as he can. Amelie's suddenly exhausted, her eyes drooping and her body weak, and it's an effort for her to walk up the stairs. They pause in the little shack at the top of the stairs for her to get her breath back and she attempts to laugh at how strange this feeling is, but she can't even manage that; she doesn't like feeling weak.

Sam pulls her against his chest, wrapping his arms as tightly around her as possible, and for the first time, Amelie understands just _how_ tight he's pulling her; it's enough for her to feel her breathing beginning to be impacted.

"I love you," he murmurs into her ear, and the wretched feeling of this _not being right_ rises within Amelie's stomach once more. She pushes it down, though.

"As I love you," she replies, and she reaches up to press her lips against his for a moment before breaking away. "Now, we should do as Myrnin said and…and go home."

_~x~_

They walk quickly through the streets, being careful to stay as far apart as possible, and Amelie realises that she should be making more of this temporary return to a human form than she currently is. She should spin around in the sun, run as fast as she can to get her heart racing, dance through the grass and fall onto her back, just embracing the chance to lie out in the sun, something she can't do at home. She shouldn't be obsessing over the fact that Oliver's in charge of her town and thinking about what he could be doing to it—she should revel in the fact that she has Sam to herself, no matter how wrong it is for them to be together.

"What is it?" Sam asks her, and Amelie turns to look at him.

"How long have you been looking at me?" she asks, her tone intrigued; there's something about his expression that makes her think that he hasn't just turned his gaze to her and that he's been staring at her for a period of time.

"Not long," he shrugs, but Amelie doesn't know if she should believe him. "But what are you thinking about?" When she doesn't reply, he smiles. "I can tell from your face that you're thinking of something you want to do—so what is it?"

Amelie walks along the path for a few metres in silence, thinking about the viability of what she wants: to be able to lie with Sam outside, under the sun, without being caught by anyone who would think them insane or disgusting for wanting to be with the other.

"I want to see the sun," she blurts out, realising just how silly she sounds as soon as she speaks; she already can see it. It's like here, in this world, she doesn't think before she speaks, doesn't need to worry about how her words will be construed. Nobody cares about her, not really, and whilst that's a relief, it's also scary to Amelie just how much she wishes to embrace it. "I mean, I want to lie out in the sun, perhaps with a picnic…with you." She blushes as she speaks, turning her head from Sam though she can feel his gaze still upon her.

"I'd like that, too," he replies. "Shall we go back to the house and get some food then disappear into the garden?"

Amelie shakes her head. "The _garden_, Sam?" she repeats, aghast. Perhaps he doesn't understand, but how they feel about one another is illegal, and being caught by the neighbours wouldn't be the best occurrence, she thinks. "We should go somewhere more…more private."

Sam laughs slightly, causing Amelie to turn back to face him, noting immediately how his expression seems much happier than she's seen it since she turned him, fifty years ago. "You don't understand—I'll show you when we've got the food, and you'll understand why we don't need to travel further away across town."

Whilst she's not particularly sure about the viability of this plan, Amelie goes along with it, moving as fast as she can down the streets until the house they apparently _live_ in is in front of them.

She doesn't think that she's ever hated the sight of a house less.

…

Within ten minutes, Sam's gathered them together a selection of food from the kitchen in the empty house; there are no cars parked at the front, which gives them both the impression that their 'parents' are currently out of the nearby vicinity.

"You ready?" he asks as she returns with some blankets she sourced from cupboards in their rooms. It's strange to be in here; there are pictures of Sam as a younger child, most of them strangely black and white…but there are very few of herself, and she wonders whether it's because she's the one they feel initiated the emotions between herself and Sam. It's either that or they don't particularly like their daughter, something which she feels is equally plausible.

Amelie nods and follows Sam out of the back door, waiting to be met with a tidy, small garden which doesn't even have a tree for them to sit under…and she's enormously surprised with what she finds. She can't even see the end of the garden, and the sides are lined with trees, though Amelie would hazard a guess at it being more than three hundred metres wide…and it's beautiful. The grass waves in the slight wind, the flowers at the upper end of the garden are vibrant, and it just seems to shine with an invisible energy.

"It's…beautiful," she whispers, taking steps further outside. It's warm out here, warmer than it seemed when they went to visit Myrnin, and Amelie's attention turns to the sun above them. It seems bigger than she's ever seen it before, though perhaps that's due to the length of time elapsed since she could really analyse it, and words seem to have been robbed from her. Nothing seems enough to describe this little haven within Morganville that she never knew existed.

"It's dangerous at night, of course," Sam says, and Amelie gets the impression that he's been talking all the time she's been staring at the garden. "Vampires can get into the garden even if they can't get into the house—but for now, whilst it's light, we're safe. Not that many seem to come down this way, they think it's bad luck or something, I'm not quite sure…"

Amelie reaches out for Sam's hand, pulling him closer to her, and their bodies collide, almost sending the blankets and food crashing to the ground. She doesn't say sorry, though, as that isn't something she would ever say, human or not, and so Amelie merely walks down the slightly sloping garden towards a copse of trees she thinks look particularly pretty.

Within minutes, she's selected somewhere she thinks is nice, and is protected from view of any civilisation whatsoever, so Amelie sets down the blankets whilst Sam organises the food.

"Chicken wing?" he asks Amelie, but she can't help but screw her face up slightly."What is it…oh, _no_, you can't not like chicken wings, it's practically against the law to have an aversion to them!" Sam says, laughing as he pushes a chicken wing into Amelie's face.

Instinctively, Amelie leans away from the chicken wing, her eyes locking into Sam's as she does so. "If you come near me with that, that _thing_, I will have to take action!" she retorts, using her arms to allow her to lean back further. It's the most unladylike that she's sat in the longest of times, though she manages to keep her back straight, even as Sam advances with the chicken wing.

"The chicken feels hurt," Sam continues, pulling a face Amelie can only describe as puppy-esque, and he continues to push it towards her. "Tell it the truth, Amelie, do you not like chicken wings?"

"I like them, but that doesn't mean I want one in my face!" she replies, feeling the gap between her back and the floor decreasing to mere inches. "If you don't move _now_, I'm going to—ahh!" Without meaning to, Amelie falls backwards, her back colliding with the soft blankets beneath her, and she finds herself staring up at Sam from an angle never before experienced.

He sets the chicken wing back on the plate he got it from and begins to help Amelie back up to a seated position before she stops him. "You want to lie down?" he asks, frowning, and Amelie nods slowly.

"I want…lie with me," she whispers, unsure when she became so bold in her requests. "Lie with me and watch the sun shine, Sam, because soon we will not have this…and I wouldn't want you to miss it for the world."

Within seconds, he's lying down next to her, their bodies side by side, their hips touching, and Amelie takes Sam's hand. Her blonde hair falls into his mop of ginger strands and she thinks she feels him shiver as it touches his face. "Don't you think it's beautiful?" she murmurs, more to herself than to Sam, so she's surprised when he answers.

"Not as beautiful as you are." It's corny, Amelie knows, but it's enough to make her blush in this body, enough to set the urges and desires within her off once more until she's not sure that she can resist.

She _wants_ this, wants him more than anything she's ever wanted before, but it's a fight between her mind and her desires because she doesn't want it when it's wrong like…like it is now. She doesn't want to be frowned on by anyone, God or the humans, and she's scared that she will be, if she succumbs to what she wants now, rather than waiting until she's a vampire once more.

But this is the only time she'll ever get to experience this with them both human—and she knows that it _has_ to be different. Whilst she thinks that she hasn't lost much with her turning, she knows that there'll be subtle differences as a human that she's forgotten about—and why should she miss them?

The inner turmoil causes tears to leak out of Amelie's eyes, almost without her noticing, and Sam turns his body so that he's facing Amelie. One finger wipes the tear from her cheek before it can make its way down her skin, before his fingers gently touch her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks her quietly, concern spilling into every syllable. "Why are you sad, Amelie, do you not want to…be here…with me?"

She shakes her head furiously, then realises what this means. "I want to be here with you!" she replies, turning her body so that she's completely facing Sam. "I just…what I want, it's wrong and I can't resist you, Sam—it's wrong, disgusting, _horrible_ but I can't…and I feel wretched!"

Before she can burst into sobs, Sam pulls her across into his embrace, their chests pressed tightly together, their legs twined with one another's, and begins to murmur comforting things in her ear. He tells her that no matter what happens, everything will be ok, and that they can do whatever they want, to just remember that things _will_ go back to normal.

"I want you but it's so wrong!" Amelie gasps into Sam's ear between whimpered sobs, and she's made her decision.

Slowly, amidst the tears, she lifts her head from Sam's shoulder and moves so that their lips are pressed against the others, tears still streaming down her cheeks. The thrumming of Sam's heart against her own startles Amelie, but she slowly adjusts to it, her hands moving at an according speed to the buttons of Sam's shirt.

This causes Sam to freeze, his own hands wrapped tightly in Amelie's hair, and he pulls back to look into Amelie's eyes, to see whether she really wants this. "Are you sure?" he murmurs, mere centimetres between their lips.

"I'm sure," she replies, more calmly than before, nodding her head as she speaks.

It's wrong in this world, Amelie thinks as their clothes are removed one piece by the next, but for them, it's right.

_~x~_

It's almost twilight when the pair finally make their way back up the garden towards the house, a smile on both of their faces that wasn't there before—even though she regrets it slightly, Amelie knows that never again will she have the experience of a beating heart with Samuel, and that she will value it for the rest of her existence.

"Where have you two been?" the woman called their mother near screams as they enter the kitchen together, the plates clear of any food, "I've been worried sick!"

Sam sets the plates down on the table with an audible thud. "We were merely in the garden, Mother, having some dinner given that _you_ weren't here to give us any!"

Amelie's not surprised when their 'mother' slaps Sam across the face; she would do the same herself. "You mean to say that you were…alone?" the older woman whispers, and all colour drains from her face. "No, no, _no_, I can't have this! It's unnatural! I could understand your closeness as children—you're siblings, you're friends—but not _now_, not doing _that_! I can't…you can't stay here any longer."

"_What_?" Sam's shocked at what his mother says, and Amelie realises, too late, that this woman was his parent in their world, too. It must be strange for him to be thrown out of his home by his own mother—stranger than it is for her.

Looking between Amelie and Sam, his mother's defiant in her expression. "You heard me. Get your suitcases packed and get out—I can't have this here! They talk enough _already_, children, why did you have to do this now? We could have moved…but I can't…not now. This has gone on for far too long, and I know that it's never going to be beaten out of you, this belief that you're not related. You _are_ and you always will be—so go out there and be together and see how long it is before you're arrested."

She takes a step back from both Amelie and Sam, the expression on her face more of disgust than any other emotion. "See how long it takes before the rest of the town hate you as much as those who already know do."

Amelie's too stunned to move for many a minute after the woman leaves the kitchen, as is Sam, and it takes the chiming of a clock to rouse them. "We should…we should do what she says," Amelie says finally, deciding to go to her room and gather things that don't even really belong to her. She wants out of this house, wants out of the place that only seems to bring her misery and bad news, and she would rather wander Oliver's streets at night than remain here a moment longer.

"I'll be a few minutes," Sam states as they reach their bedrooms. "I…I need to…" he doesn't need to finish the sentence; Amelie understands what he wants.

"I'll be here whenever you want to leave," she replies, smiling ever so slightly as she reaches up to press her hand against his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sam says automatically, but for the first time, Amelie doesn't think he sounds sincere.

_~x~_

It takes him five hours to recreate the machine that took him seven to make before, and Myrnin's rather pleased with himself; it's more complicated than the old machine, due to the reversal of something that doesn't technically exist, but Myrnin's confident that it'll work.

Before he takes them back to their world, however, Myrnin's interested in what the world outside the window is like, so to speak; this world with Oliver in charge of Morganville—why he decided to build it is enough of a query for Myrnin—and Sam and Amelie siblings, it's strange…and Myrnin doesn't like it. That doesn't mean that he's disinterested though; he's intrigued about the subtle differences between the real world and that of the one he created by removing something evidently integral to the vampire race…and Morganville.

Tapping on buttons on one of the devices which seems slightly different to his usual one, Myrnin brings up a hologram of the Elders' Council building, watching as people walk in and out of it. It seems busier than _his_ universe's building is, and Myrnin's intrigued as he does a virtual walk into the building and towards where he presumes Oliver's office is. Everyone's a vampire, it seems, though with so many exiting the building with the last dregs of sunlight, Myrnin presumes that there's something going on here that means vampires are more sun-resistant…but what it is, he isn't going to find out. That's his new aim for when he returns home—once the Bishop Disease has been cured, of course.

Myrnin reaches a door labelled merely 'Oliver' and he knows that he's reached the most important person in Morganville…but he stops. Suddenly, Myrnin realises that he has absolutely no interest in seeing Oliver here; he doesn't want to see the differences between the Oliver he knows and this one.

He shuts down the machine instantly, watching as the scene before him changes back to being merely his familiar workbench, covered in papers which are unfamiliar to his mind. For a full minute, Myrnin stares at the bench, trying to understand the world; removing one thing from the world upset the balance and threw them here, into a place where they do not belong—how many others were like Sam and Amelie at the point he created the machine? How many others were impacted and forced into this world, confused and hurt—what if one of them was Claire? He presumes not, given that she hasn't come to visit, but what if his actions led to something bad happening to her?

Myrnin makes himself the promise that in the future, he will run his major new ideas by Amelie first, rather than throwing himself headfirst into them. At least then, he'll have a scapegoat should they go wrong.

"It's been…interesting," he murmurs as he powers up the new machine and begins to press buttons—buttons which will take them home.

_~x~_

Sam and Amelie wander the streets as darkness falls, dark and oppressive upon a town with no street lamps, their hands linked together tightly. They have no intended location, their only aim to avoid being killed before Myrnin gets them out of this world, their conversations strange in focus. Both of them want to know as much about the other as possible, both about how they feel and about the little things that most people feel makes no difference not knowing—things like their favourite childhood songs and games (something which has Amelie singing to explain to Sam the beauty of her favourite song) and their favourite subject (something which has Sam attempting to explain the education system of the USA, or at least, Morganville). Neither of them want the evening to end in a way; they want to continue wandering the streets for the rest of their lives, their hearts beating together, rather than returning to the world where they'll be forced apart by their own doing—and yet they both want this no longer. They don't want the pressure of having to separate as soon as they suspect anyone can see them in the street, don't want the fear of the police coming to find them and arrest them for crimes that they both willingly committed…and most of all, they don't want to be in a world they don't know.

Amelie hasn't been human in one thousand years; Sam hasn't for fifty years. They're not used to feeling the way they do, and whilst Amelie enjoyed it for the first few hours, she can't face feeling this way for the rest of her life. She wants control, wants to decide when she acts and how she displays her emotion—things that being human has taken from her. She wants Sam in any universe, but here, the desire is too much; it's sinful, wrong, too _much_—and that's something she doesn't want. She doesn't want to be somewhere where having Sam is too much.

So she wants to go home.

As they walk past Common Grounds, Amelie's struck by just how different things are; the design of the shop is completely different to how it is under Oliver, and if she needs more proof that Oliver runs the town, this is it.

"It's not his town in our world," Sam reminds Amelie, taking her hand; she doesn't remember dropping his, but she evidently did. "It's _your_ town—and it always will be."

"Who owns the town?" There's a voice behind them that scares both Amelie and Sam; they both recognise it…and it isn't a good sign.

Behind them is Brandon, a vampire dead in their world, but evidently thriving here.

"Our conversation is nothing to do with you," Amelie snaps, for a moment forgetting that she's human here. As she speaks to Brandon, she does so as his Founder—and it works for a moment. The fierceness, the power in her voice causes Brandon to take a step backwards, his eyes locked on Amelie's, before, finally, he laughs.

"Who are you, a little human, telling _me_ what to do?" he retorts, his tone as bitter as Amelie ever remembers hearing it. "You're nothing, whereas I am the second-in-command of this town…and I will have you, woman!"

Inside Amelie's head, she groans; Myrnin told them to do nothing to endanger their lives, and it looks like one sentence has done that exactly. "Brandon, you don't need to do this," she says as the vampire stalks towards them slowly, a predator who knows his prey cannot escape.

"Run!" Sam yells, pushing Amelie behind him as he drops the bag in his hand. He tries to push her backwards with all his might, tries to get her to run away—but she won't go.

"I'm not leaving you!" she shouts at him, keeping a hold upon his hand as she tries to pull him with her on a useless journey. Brandon will get them before they even reach the door to Common Grounds.

"I'm not interested in the man," Brandon says, and his words send a shiver through Amelie. She's defenceless here, and, now, she's scared. "I want_ you_." His eyes lock on Amelie and she's shaking with fear, realising just how weak she is without her vampire-self. Over the years, she's become too reliant on her speed and strength, her power and ability to destroy anyone who opposes her—so now, she's left to the mercy of a man who she's never had any respect for.

Sam's hand is suddenly gone from hers as Brandon flings him backwards. There's a crack as Sam's body connects with the pavement, and Amelie screams in horror, her heart rate increasing further. "Don't hurt me!" she begs, hating herself for doing it, but she has no choice. It's beg or die, she's certain.

"Maybe next time—in your next life, I mean, as you're not surviving this—you'll learn to respect your elders and betters," Brandon whispers into her ear as he grabs her, his tone suddenly seductively soft. "Don't resist too much; it'll only hurt you more than it will anyway."

Amelie struggles as he forces her against a wall, her legs kicking at him as she tries to aim for a place which is painful even for male vampires, but he holds her in place in such a way that that isn't possible. "Why do this?" she hisses at him, blinking back the tears which threaten to break through. "Why not just get your blood from the bloodbank; why hurt me?"

"It's the thrill, isn't it?" Brandon replies, his hand running along the bare skin at Amelie's collarbone. He seems to get a thrill from the shiver that runs through Amelie at his touch, and before she realises anything's happened, he's ripped the front of her top, exposing her skin beneath. "You're really rather lovely, you know that," he mutters, grinning at Amelie with all of his teeth exposed, before he leans over to press his lips against her skin. "I'm going to enjoy you."

His fangs pierce her skin and she screams, "Sam! Help me, please!"

There's a noise and Amelie turns her head to see Sam staggering towards them, a piece of wood clenched in his hand, and he's such a pitiful opponent to Brandon that she wants to cry. He's going to die, just like she's going to die, but at least Sam gets the dignity of dying in battle, Amelie thinks. She's going to be used in every way by a vampire who doesn't deserve her, who is weaker than her in every respect, and who shouldn't even be alive.

"Come and kill me," Sam goads Brandon. "Do it…and let's just see if I can kill you first."

This rouses Brandon enough to turn his attention from Amelie to Sam, removing his fangs from Amelie's skin in the process. It's only at this point that she realises where his hands have been, and she feels sickened, squirming to get them away from her.

"I'll kill you, if that's what you desire," Brandon hisses, dropping Amelie onto the floor. "But I'll do it so that you die slowly and painfully, so you can listen to the screams of your lover—isn't she your sister; how _quaint_ human love is nowadays—as she dies too, though I'm sure that I can…satisfy her in a way that you never were able to do."

Amelie's head hurts; she's not sure if it's from the situation she's in or if it's because of something else…everything seems to shimmer slightly, a white light decorating everything that's physical in the alleyway, in a way that it shouldn't.

"Hold on, Sam!" she shouts, not sure if they've started fighting yet or not. "Myrnin's doing it, he's saving us!" she reaches out to him, desperate to feel his embrace as they're pulled from this world into the world in which they belong.

Within seconds, all of Morganville is on the floor, and that includes Sam and Amelie, somehow their outstretched fingers just touching one another.

_~x~_

And then they're back.

They're standing in Amelie's small garden, still locked within their embrace, and it takes Amelie a full five seconds to realise that they've returned. It takes her a minute more to process the fact that Brandon is dead, that Sam is alive and safe…and that they're both vampires once more.

"Oh, Sam!" she whispers, tears sliding out of her eyes as she understands the enormity of what's happened, of what could have happened if they had stayed. "Why…why does this always happen to us?"

Sam tries to soothe her, whispering words into her ears, but she knows that he has no answer to her rhetorical question; he wasn't meant to. Amelie doesn't want an answer; she just wants the question to linger in the air between them, an omen of the love they share—an unwritten reminder that wherever they are together, death and destruction follows.

Behind them, a sound indicates the opening of a portal, and Amelie looks up at Sam quickly, panic in her eyes. "Don't…don't tell Myrnin about what happened—about _any_ of it. Please…for me."

Sam nods slowly, his eyes grave but sincere. "I'll never tell him anything you don't want me to tell him, Amelie," he tells her before pressing the lightest of kisses to her lips.

Amelie believes him.

Myrnin steps through the portal and laughs slightly. "Well, I see that the Founder and her beau have returned to their true states, and are no longer related!" he exclaims, as though it's a surprise that they have.

Amelie picks up on this, whirling around to face Myrnin with anger in her eyes. "So you did not know that it would return us to this world, did you not?" she snaps, noticing the fear and hesitation in Myrnin's expression.

"Not exactly—it is not an exact science…" he trails off, his hand upon his head. "I…I should go. The Bishop Disease is much stronger now; I can feel its hold on me intensifying now that it has had a chance to play away…I cannot be away from my laboratory for too long, for fear that I will…do something I regret."

Amelie nods slowly, her irritation with Myrnin not entirely gone. "You are something to fear, Myrnin, for both good and bad reasons," she states, not entirely sure if it's a compliment or not.

Myrnin tips an invisible hat to her before taking a step towards the portal. "I thank you, my dear, for the short break you gave me from the Disease…well, what I gave myself. It felt so good to _think_, really think, and I know that it will be a long time—perhaps never—before I experience that again. So, thank you."

He's gone before Amelie can say another word.

She turns her attention back to Sam, but doesn't wrap herself back into his arms, fearful that the tears will return—and she doesn't want that. She needs to remove the idea that she can display emotion and act how she wants, as she did in the other world, because that isn't possible here.

Before she needs to say anything, however, Sam smiles and drops a small kiss upon her forehead. "I should go," he murmurs, taking a step backwards from the woman in the silk gown. "You know where to find me should you want me again."

Tears drip down Amelie's cheeks as she stands in her garden, suddenly realising that by gaining everything she's ever wanted for a short period of time, she's lost everything that she needs.

* * *

Please, if you've read this far, review, and don't favourite without reviewing either.

If you've got any requests, please feel free to share them with me; I think this proves that I'm slightly insane and will write anything.


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